


Come to the Edge

by LuckyOwlsFoot



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Phobias, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 23:17:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12242565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyOwlsFoot/pseuds/LuckyOwlsFoot
Summary: Being a hero doesn't mean being fearless.





	Come to the Edge

Angela stared down the scaffolding, arms twined around the support struts. It wasn’t really that far a drop. Only 25 feet. It would be 30 when she finally convinced herself to stand. Why was that so much worse? She’d done tests, she would be fine. 

…She still wasn’t standing up. 

With a sigh, she crawled back until her toes hooked over the edge of the platform. She practically laid down to stretch a foot down to the next level. Slowly, so slowly, she lowered her weight down. The metal ridges of the platforming were sharp against her shins, but she didn’t want to move further. Maybe she should have stuck with 15 feet? That had been the original plan, but there was no good way of stepping off the scaffolding half-way up; not unless she climbed up the outside. Angela suppressed a full body shiver. It wasn’t the height bothering her. She knew - she’d been up plenty high before. It was the fall. 

It shouldn’t be a problem, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. She’d run the models, done numerous tests. She trusted the equipment. It was just forcing herself to step off the damned ledge. She scrubbed quickly at the moister forming at the corner of her eyes. Her hands were still shaking when she crawled back onto the top level. 

Get it over quick, she reminded herself. She flexed with the back of her mind, feeling muscles she never had stretch and slide. She glimpsed the spread of her wings out of the corner of her eye. It was enough to get her to stand up. 

The parking lot was empty below. Just jumping from the ground hadn’t had too much results – not high enough to notice much of a difference. The table in her lab had been better. It had worked every height she’d tried, it would work now. She stepped to the edge.

Step off. _Step off_. She looked back to her wings. Stared at the golden light. The noise she made as her feet left the platform was somewhere between a squeak and a wail. She flailed back for the platform instinctually, but she was slowly drifting away from it. When the lurching vertigo feeling never hit, however, she risked a glance down. The ground was still twenty-some feet below her, drifting slowly closer. She would never be able to tell if the breath she released then was a laugh or a sob. 

She couldn’t force herself to untuck her limbs. The seconds ticked by as the drifted down until she finally settled on her shins on the cool pavement. She stayed there a moment, waiting for the trembling to subside before standing and brushing bits of gravel from her pants. The 2nd climb up the scaffolding was a little easier – a little faster. Stepping off was not any different, though this time she didn’t need to step back. Half way down, she was able to stretch her legs out, landing with a slight tap as her heels touched to pavement. So began her afternoon. She soon discovered she could somewhat control her drift as she stepped off – and odd mix of throwing her weight where she wanted to go and shifting that _something_ near the base of her skull. She had a pounding headache within the hour, but she was smiling as she climbed the scaffolding.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't realize I had a fear of falling until I got up on scaffolding to learn to rappel, so I thought it might be interesting to explore that with Mercy. 
> 
> Title is from the poem by Christopher Logue.


End file.
